


I'm A Sucker (For You)

by joonfired



Series: Mandorin [5]
Category: The Mandalorian (LadyIrina AU), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cooking, Corin is once again oblivious, Distractions, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Hide Your Feelings Behind Banter, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Fanfiction, M/M, POV The Mandalorian | Din Djarin, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, because LadyIrina has shown us the Way, mandorin, the helmet hides heart eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:35:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22087255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonfired/pseuds/joonfired
Summary: Din wondered how much he was hated by the universe to be stuck with this beautiful idiot.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret) & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret), Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Mandorin [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569676
Comments: 24
Kudos: 357





	I'm A Sucker (For You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Family and Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758992) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 



> Y'ALL OUR BOY IS AN OFFICIAL TAG AHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> these awkward idiots & their baby are so much fun to write ahahaha

Din wondered how much he was hated by the universe to be stuck with this beautiful idiot.

He found Corin bent over the small stove on the  _ Razor’s _ galley, the baby propped on his hip as he stirred a pot of something that smelled surprisingly amazing. His shirt was unbuttoned several notches, showing the artistic lines of his throat and collarbones, and the sleeves were rolled up in haphazard manner.

Din told himself to ignore the way the small muscles moved in those exposed forearms or the shadowed dip at the base of his throat. And he especially needed to ignore the feelings that swelled up almost painfully when Corin bent to tickle the baby’s ear with his nose.

“Who’s ready for some famous throw-pot stew?” he asked the child in a silly sing-song voice.

“Sounds good,” Din answered.

Corin’s reaction was beyond priceless.

He jumped back from the stove with a strangled yelp, clutching the baby to his chest . . . thus dropping the spoon in the process. Some of the liquid from the simmering pot flung up onto his face, which earned a few choice words.

“Hi,” Corin finally said once he’d calmed and the spoon had sounded its final clatter.

“What are you making?” Din asked, stepping forward to peer over his shoulder.

The baby cooed up at him with a happy expression, little fists clinging to Corin’s shirt. Din tried to ignore the way the material stretched over the muscles of the ex-stormtrooper, or that Corin’s neck was  _ so close _ , even with the barrier of the helmet, or how fast the man’s pulse was racing under his skin.

He tried so hard to ignore things and failed so many times.

“Throw-pot stew?” Corin spoke so hesitantly it brought a smile to Din’s hidden lips.

“You do know what you’re cooking, don’t you?” he chuckled, stretching a gloved finger to stroke the child’s head.

“Yeah?” Corin cleared his throat. “Um, I mean yeah, I do. It’s, uh” —he turned back to the pot and resumed stirring—“it’s just a bunch of stuff thrown into a pot to make a stew, like whatever you can find or whatever supplies you’ve got . . .”

The baby suddenly sneezed then, the surface of the stew rippling with the added contents of its tiny nose. 

Corin stirred a little faster, grinning up at Din.

“And also baby nose goop,” he chuckled.

It really wasn’t funny, but the sound of his laugh thawed Din’s humor. He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that happen,” he said.

“See what happen?” Corin replied with exaggerated innocence.

The baby giggled, pointing at the soup and then smacking a hand lightly against its nose and wiping away the remainder of what had been sneezed.

“We may be men, but we try to be healthy men,” Corin told the child, stepping away from the stove to fetch a spare rag and dab at the small nose. He then wiped the wee hands, tickling the top of the baby’s head with his nose as he did so.

They both laughed and Din knew he could never forget this moment . . . sneeze-seasoned stew and all.


End file.
